


Not Your Fault

by twyly56



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Throws Fluff at the Plot), Adorable Isaac Lahey, Alpha Derek Hale, Anchor Scott McCall, Anchors, Asthmatic Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Beta Isaac Lahey, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Isaac Lahey, Coach Lahey's A+ Parenting, Comfy Oversized Sweaters, Cute Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Derek Hale Adopts Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale Has Feelings, Dork Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Eye Trauma, Give Isaac All the Fluff, Good Alpha Derek Hale, He's Still the Baby Though, Hurt Isaac Lahey, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isaac Lahey & Erica Reyes Friendship, Isaac Lahey Feels, Isaac Lahey Has Nightmares, Isaac Lahey's Scarves, Isaac's Basically the First Werewolf Derek Turned Successfully, Pack Baby Isaac Lahey, Pack Dad Derek Hale, Pre-Bite Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Shy Isaac Lahey, Worried Isaac Lahey, Young Isaac Lahey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-19 08:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17597795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twyly56/pseuds/twyly56
Summary: Isaac had never been treated great by his father, but after Camden died, everything just went downhill from there. One night, his father's aim was a bit worse than he realized, and the porcelain shards from his plate got into the boy's eye. Terrified and unable to see from his right side, Isaac runs out of his house and somehow ends up on Derek Hale's doorstep.





	1. Chapter 1

His father was eating dinner, and Isaac was sitting across from him at the table, eyes flicking up between his father's face and the tablecloth. He curled and uncurled his fingers as inconspicuously as possible. The white folded paper felt heavy under his hand. 

"Uh, so far it's an A in French and a B minus in Econ," Isaac told him. 

"What about Chemistry?" his father asked.

His fork scraped against the ceramic bottom of the plate as he scooped up another forkful of vegetables. The boy swallowed nervously, worrying the knee of his jeans under the table with his free hand. His other hand was resting on the table over his report card in a subtle attempt to keep most of the letters out of immediate view. He glanced back up at his father. 

"I, uh, I don't know. Midterms are in a few days, though, so it could go up," Isaac said. 

"Well, what's it at now?" his father asked. 

"Uh, g-grades?" Isaac stammered. 

"Yeah," his father said. 

"Oh, I, um, I'm not sure," Isaac responded. He looked down at the table meekly. 

"Well, you just said it could go up," his father said. 

"I didn't - I, uh, just meant generally," Isaac tried to tell him. He pushed his slightly wavy hair away from his forehead, feeling his fingers begin to tremble with anxiety. 

"You wouldn't be lying to me, Isaac, would you?" his father asked. He popped another bite of his steamed vegetables into his mouth. The boy felt his throat go dry. 

"No," Isaac said. His voice came out small. 

"Then tell me your grade," his father commanded. 

"I - I just told you. I don't know," Isaac responded. 

"Do you want to take this little conversation downstairs?" his father asked. Isaac felt his breath get caught in his throat, and his eyes widened slightly. He quickly shook his head no. "No? Then tell me your grade, son." 

"Dad. The semester's only half over. There's still plenty of time-" Isaac frantically tried to say. 

"Ah, great!" his father said over him. The boy dropped his eyes down to the tabletop and swallowed. 

"It's a - it's a D," Isaac murmured. The silence that followed his soft words seemed to resonate in the dining room. It was only broken by the sound of his father picking up his utensils again. 

"It's a D. Okay," his father said. He set his fork down on the plate, and he looked Isaac in the eye. "I'm not... I'm not angry. But you know I'm going to have to find a way to punish you, right? It's my, ah, responsibility as a parent. Let's start with something simple like, uh..." His father paused, and he set his napkin down on top of his plate. "Tell you what. You do the dishes and clean up the kitchen, okay?" 

Isaac stared at him, and he blinked. He was still wound tight with nervous energy, unsure if that was all, but doing the kitchen wasn't half as bad as the freezer. 

"Yeah," the boy agreed quietly. 

"Good. Because you know, I'd - I'd really like to see this place spotless," his father said. He gulped down the last of his tea and carelessly flung the mug to the side. Isaac flinched slightly when he heard it shatter on the hardwood floor. "You know... I mean, just this entire kitchen. _Spotless._ "

Isaac jumped back when he saw his father lurch out of his seat and grab a hold of the dishes in front of him. Half of it went crashing to the other side of the table, shattering on the floor like the mug, but his father picked up a bowl and flung it at him just as he looked up from his crouched position. Isaac tried to duck again, but he heard and felt more than saw it smash against the wall. A blazing pain exploded in the right side of his face and his eye. His mouth was clamped firmly shut to keep from crying out, teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it bled. 

"Spotless," his father repeated. Isaac glanced back up at him, trembling and resisting the urge to blink his right eye. It just hurt so much. He reached with his fingers to pull out a shard of glass from his cheek under his eye, extracting it gingerly. His left eye zeroed in on it in his hand, covered in his own blood. His father made a tsking noise. "Well, that was your own fault." 

The boy pushed himself to his feet, cupping his hand over his right eye as red and black clouded half of his vision. He stared at his father in disbelief. 

"You could have blinded me!" Isaac said. He could be blinded right now even. He was pretty sure that was glass in his eye. 

"Shut up. It's a scratch. It's not even that bad," his father responded. Though his expression did seem to change a little when he noticed the blood seeping out from under Isaac's fingers. "Go wash off your face and clean up this mess." 

Isaac didn't respond. A weird combination of anger and panic flooded him, and he took off in the direction of the front door. His footing was a bit off because his depth perception was shot to hell, but he did manage to make it out the door before his father caught him. He heard his father's footsteps coming closer behind. Isaac slammed the door shut and stepped down the step on the porch. He nearly tripped, but he righted himself with a hand on the siding of the house. 

"Isaac? Isaac!" his father yelled after him. 

Stumbling a little, Isaac grabbed his bike up from beside the porch, and he swung his leg over the side. The boy started pedaling like mad down the street, pumping his legs. His father yelled his name again louder, sounding angry. The wind stung on his cut up face, particularly around his eye area, but Isaac just winced and kept going, pedaling away. Blood dribbled down the side of his face, a coppery tang slipping into the side of his mouth. Isaac's cycling wobbled after a few more miles, and the fact that it was dark wasn't really helping him see. 

The front wheel of his bike hit something, and the boy went flying off of it, crashing into the rough pavement below. Isaac whimpered at the raw ache of his scraped skin on his hands and head. He felt a surge of panic as he heard a car rumble closer. The boy scrambled to his feet and darted into the nearest alleyway. He heard a car door slam shut, and footsteps come closer. Isaac grabbed the side of a dumpster and used it to hoist himself up, kicking at the sides with his feet to push up his body. He reached up, latching his hands on the fire escape, and he climbed the rungs, clinging to the metal tightly, feeling disoriented. 

"Isaac?!" he heard his father call. "Isaac!" 

The boy pulled himself up onto the little balcony area that the fire escape lead to, and he moved as close to the brick wall as possible, pressing himself into it. He panted, feeling the slow, heady throb of his bleeding face become more prominent as he remained still. 


	2. Chapter 2

The sticky slick warmth trickling down his face was his own blood. Isaac clenched and unclenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to distract himself from the pain, drawing up tiny droplets of red in the shape of crescents. He should probably go to the hospital to get the glass removed from his freaking face, but he was terrified that if he moved from where he was, his father would notice and come get him. His father was his only emergency contact, and the people at the hospital would no doubt call him. He could only imagine what he would do to him when that happened. He had sounded so angry. 

The boy jerked in place, startled, when he heard a door open to his right. Careful not to blink his injured eye, he whipped his head around, peering at the man with his left eye. He looked really tall and kind of scary, towering over him in his sitting position. The man frowned at him and took a step closer. Isaac scooted back, breath catching in his throat, hearing his heart go _thud thud thud_ in his chest. His sneaker clad feet squeaked on the metal of the balcony as he scrambled back toward the railing. He had a moment of panic when his blood slicked hand slid off the side of the balcony, and he quickly clamped it down on the edge of the floor. 

"What are you doing out here?" the man asked him. 

"I - I - I'll leave. I'm s-sorry," Isaac stuttered. 

"That's not what I asked," the man said. 

"I-" Isaac started to say.

He let out a squeak when a hand grabbed his bicep and pulled him to his feet. The man all but dragged him inside the building, shutting the door behind them. Isaac wobbled for a moment when he was let go of, his legs still trembling. It was so much warmer inside. The boy could feel the dry warmth bleeding into his body, and he resisted the urge to just melt like a puddle. He was still extremely wary. The man crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a speculative look, glancing over him. His dark eyes seemed to land on his bloody face for the longest time. The expression on his face was indecipherable. The lizard brain in the back of Isaac's head screamed _danger._  

"What the hell happened to you?" the man asked. 

"I fell," Isaac lied. 

"Really?" the man said. He sounded totally unconvinced. He shook his head. "Do you want me to call someone to come pick you up, kid? Your mom?" 

"She's, uh, dead," Isaac admitted quietly. He rubbed the inside of his wrist. 

"Your dad?" the man asked. 

"No! No, no, please don't," Isaac begged. He felt his throat close on him. "I - I can't-" 

He was hot and cold at the same time. His hands were sweating, even after repeatedly wiping his palms on his dirty pants. His breathing was coming short and fast. He didn't feel like enough oxygen was reaching his lungs. He was shaking. So much that his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. Isaac leaned against the wall, head fuzzy, sliding down the flat surface until he found himself crouched on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees, his head bent forward, trying to breathe. He felt sick and dizzy as he thought of his father, the freezer. Isaac couldn't breathe. He could not  _breathe._  

There wasn't enough air in the room. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. Panic kept him conscious. The boy could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body, making it alert. Yet he still felt so numb. Panic. There was only panic. He heard the blood pumping through his body. He heard his own heartbeat, faster, so much faster, than it should be. Isaac tried to breathe in, but there was no air. He pulled his legs closer to his body, tried to hide his face. His mouth was dry. He ached for water. But there was none. No water, no air, no gravity. Isaac felt dizzy. He wasn't sure where the floor was, where the ceiling was. His vision became blurry. He needed air. But there was none.

"Hey. Kid!" he heard the man's voice say. He could barely hear it over the sound of his own heart pumping blood through his veins at a rapid speed. "Kid!" Louder. It sounded nearer than before. Isaac still felt dizzy. He still couldn't breathe. He was cold, and he was sweating. Freezing and on fire. "Can you hear me?" 

His vision was still blurry. The world around him was spinning. He couldn't talk, his mouth was too dry. There was no air. A figure, the man, was crouching beside him, and he flinched almost violently when a warm hand was placed on his forearm. The man shook him, and Isaac's gaze snapped up to him. There was no air. Tears started welling up in his eyes as he hastily gasped for air. The grip on his forearm tightened for just a second. The man looked straight into his eyes. 

"Calm down. One breath at a time, okay?" he said. "It's alright. You're okay." 

Isaac sucked in a shaky breath, trembling like a leaf. It took a few minutes until his breathing steadied but with it the spinning eventually stopped. His heartbeat calmed down a little, and he now realized that he was sitting on the floor with the man's hand still on his arm. The man looked at him intently, and Isaac felt like shrinking away again. His teeth clacked together as he swallowed roughly. 

"P-please don't call my dad," Isaac begged. 

"Okay. I won't. I promise," the man said. "Just calm down." He lifted his other hand up and wiped off a streak of blood as it dribbled towards Isaac's mouth. The boy barely managed to abort a flinch. "I think I can help you. If you want me to." 

"What?" Isaac shook his head a little, black and red still covering half of his vision. 

"I can heal you. I can make all of this-" He gestured at his face. "-go away," the man told him. 

"I don't understand. How exactly would you do that?" Isaac asked. 

The man's eyes flashed red, and Isaac blinked his left eye in shock. 

"I'm a werewolf. An Alpha, actually. This could be good for both of us. I don't have a pack anymore, and you, from the looks of it, don't have much of a family either. I could Turn you, and you would be my first Beta. You would be a part of my pack, and I would take care of you and train you how to control your werewolf side. Also, it would heal your injuries as long as the bite takes," the man explained. 

It sounded insane, to be honest, but Isaac didn't even need time to think about it. 

"Yes," he said. "Do it." 

"There is the chance that it won't take, and the bite will kill you," the man told him. "Are you still sure?" 

"Yeah," Isaac responded.

The man lifted his forearm up to his mouth, and Isaac saw elongated canines peek out from his mouth. Warm breath ghosted over his skin as the man pulled his sleeve back, rolling it up to expose his flesh. The muscle on his arm turned to fire, pain lancing through him. Isaac gasped. As quickly as it flared through him, it was gone, and the boy slumped against the wall again, panting. Something wet his hand as the man pulled back. Isaac absently noted that it was more blood. 

"This part isn't going to be pleasant, just an FYI," the man said. "What's your name, kid?" 

"Isaac," he responded. The boy felt a swirl of heat rush through him, and he shuddered. 

"I'm Derek," the man told him. 

"Cool," Isaac mumbled. 


End file.
